Fail Factor
by Stephable
Summary: SoMa and other stories. A collection made for my not-so-great stuff. Mostly it's stuff I knew I needed to fix then left for so long I forgot I had it. Rated M becaise my mind it dirty and I don't know how bad this is going to get. stuff about Kami!...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I was really proud of the idea for this story but then I wrote it REALLY badly and I edited it a bit but then gave up.  
>Still I think you can appreciate the symbolism and how amazed I was at my mind when I came up with this.<p>

**Backstory:**  
>神 - Kami, the name of Maka's mum. In japanese it can be translated as paper or God.<p>

**Kami**

The TV was on. He didn't hear it. Curled up on the couch there was only one thing he could hear. The one thing he didn't want to. Her sobs. The sound travelled from her room and seemed to aim straight for his ears. He tried to block out the sound. There was nothing he could do to help. It was pain that she brought on herself because she wouldn't let go. She wouldn't look at it objectively or listen to him.

Every year. Without exception she was sad on this day. Her mothers birthday. Kami. Quite an ironic name really. Two meanings, God and paper. And that's what she is.

It was easy to see why Maka wouldn't give up the Godly imaginings she had of her mother. Her father had never been particularly good to her and she didn't have any other parents, of course. In Soul's mind though, Kami was the worse parent. He didn't like either of her parents really but Spirit was around at least. In Maka's life Kami's only presence was paper. A few scattered postcards. The same ones catching Maka's tears right now.

Soul thought of his own family. Maybe they were drawn together. Neither could be with their family and be happy. He suddenly felt guilt overwhelm him. She was alone. He tried to cheer her up before but it had never worked. Now though he felt like it would. There was no reason, just a gut feeling.

Soul pulled himself up off the couch and shuffled towards her room, trying to construct some sort of sentence in advance. Her head didn't even turn when he opened the door and walked towards her.

"Maka..." He half whispered, desperately searching his brain for what her should say next.

She turned to face him. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears left lines on her face, her body shook as she tried to contain her sobs.

Soul took a step towards her. He wanted to run. Seeing her like this made him want to break something. It made him angry. Angry that emotions like this could even exist for someone as sweet as Maka.

Her lower lip quivered. She stood slowly and walked towards him grabbing his shirt and pulling him forward until her face was on his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt. He moved his arms around her back and held her.

This was the family they could rely on.

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><p><em>sorry for being shit.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Occasionally I write things and the idea comes from me just being stupid or complaining or having a momentary lapse in happiness. This is one of those. It's not a bad idea but it was definately not well thought through. It's not too bad.

**Mirror**

"I'm in the bathroom, Soul." Maka called from the door. He grunted in response too busy watching a TV show about cars or sports or meat. Maka wasn't really sure. Some boy thing. She went to do her nightly routine. Wash face, moisturize, have shower, moisturize legs, brush hair. It was well rehearsed.

Tonight she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Just a quick one, while grabbing her face wash. She felt different to normal. There seemed to be more things that were wrong. Things she needed to fix to feel pretty. Her stomach clenched. Normally she could find enough good things to balance the bad things, she was pretty objective like that. But tonight she felt somehow like all of the cleansing and fixing was a waste of time. She took up a pen and paper (she always had them stashed in her pocket) and began to write.

It was a list. Of the things she didn't like about herself. Maybe if she got all of these issues out of her head she'd feel less hopeless. She read them aloud as she wrote.

"Red spot on forehead, nostrils too big, strange piece of hair that's always in my eyes," She flicked at the hair just to make sure it wouldn't go away, it wouldn't.

"Lips too small." she looked down at herself. There were other things that were too small too but she was too embarrassed to write that down.

"EVERYTHING" she wrote on the bottom of the page. She started to feel tears coming so she got into the shower. The only thing worse than feeling like this was letting Soul see her cry.

Curled up in bed she felt a little better. At least she didn't have to look at herself, her eyelids began to feel heavy. Sleep was coming. But, just as she was starting to feel better... she had to pee. She had to go to the bathroom where the mirror was. Maka groaned and rolled out of bed.

On her tip toes Maka crept to the bathroom, went to the toilet. On her way out she picked up the list and read over it. "lips too small" she read and sighed. But there was more. More writing. Soul's scribbled handwriting covered the bottom of the page.

She sat on the bathroom floor and read aloud to herself.

"Maka you don't have a red spot on your head! And seriously, who even looks at people's nostrils? The piece of hair that's always in your eyes is cute and gives me a reason to move it away. I don't see how the size of your lips even matters but I frequently find myself staring at them."

Right down the bottom it said EVERYTHING. She'd written it in caps to emphasize but Soul had altered in. Now it read "EVERYTHING about you is beautiful".

Maka held the note to her chest. Maybe there was some hope. Her eyelids started to droop. This time she gave in to the feeling and fell asleep.

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><p>Oh well that was cute. I think I've exaggerated it's fail factor (a thing I have invented, from 1-10, I rate this at a 7).<p> 


	3. Ch3 Instict

**A/N:** This is a pretty limey story so I'm warning you.  
>I never really liked it very much so I didn't upload it, it's been sitting on my computer for months.<br>Enjoy!

...fail title is fail

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><p><strong>Instinct<strong>

She'd known how he felt for a while now. There was no acknowledgement. No answers. No "I feel the same way.". Nothing. It was pissing him off. It wasn't even like he'd said he loves her. Just he likes her. Maybe they could be a bit closer. She'd wanted to think. With a brain that big you think she might be able to make up her mind a bit. And now she was in the kitchen, leaning over the sink. Her skirts are very short. This was blatantly torture.

She was asking for it really. Definitely. She was making him pant. She'd turned him into some sort of drooling puppy. Following her, waiting for her. It wasn't good enough. He wasn't like that. He wouldn't be like that. The decision was made. He stood up.

Now what? Walk to the kitchen. She looked up but didn't find it interesting it seemed. She just turned back. Why doesn't she pay attention? He would make her pay attention. He'd show her why she should. Why she _had to_.

His hands suddenly wrapped around her arms. Her head turned and her eyes widened. He knew he could look scary but he didn't care. She could speak. If she didn't want it she could say. He's not a criminal.

With her attention on him there was no need for his hands on her arms. When released Maka turned to face him. Her back against the bench, sink directly behind her. Soul took her face in his hands and pressed their lips together.

He put all of his strength into it. It was a full body kiss, all possible surfaces touching. He'd been made to wait too long. This was going to be more rough than he would've otherwise been. Self control was long gone.

They parted and Maka gasped but Soul's hands were already at her legs. Just above the knee moving upwards, holding tightly. He could hear her breathing heavily. Panting. His wandering hands found their way to her butt, his fingertips tracing along the places she would never normally let him touch.

But she was letting him now. He tightened his grip on her. He didn't have enough room to move. He needed to move her. Onto the floor. One arm wrapped around her neck and put her onto her back on the floor. The tiny girl's weight not an issue at all. He kneeled above her, reluctant to make eye contact because of the borderline inappropriate physical contact. But it was only going to get worse. He couldn't wait. He needed it.

He pushed her jumper and shirt up from her hips revealing her belly button. He began to tackle the skirt buttons. His hands barely shaking. He'd rehearsed this in his mind. One, two, three. It was off. There was only one layer to go. He could feel in the pit of him stomach that this was what he wanted. He didn't hesitate. He knew how it worked.

One hand was focused on her. She needed to be ready for it. With the other hand he worked on the buttons of his own pants. Maka was moaning and he risked a glance at her face. She was smiling, her eyes were closed. He slid his eyes along her body, back to where the action would happen. There was nothing stopping him now.

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><p><strong>AN:** Yeahhhh, Soul seems a little rapey at times and it's just a bit weird.  
>I'm feeling a little bit guilty at the moment because even though I've been <em>posting<em> I haven't been _writing_.  
>I'll write you something new soon.<p>

Reviews make me happy :D I promise to reply to you.


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